Big Brother
by Winter Blake
Summary: Dick wakes up in the hospital after being in a comma for nine days. He ends up being the one taking care of Tim instead of being taken care of himself because that's what a big brother does. Fluffy one shot.


**Pre Flashpoint because I hate what the New 52 did to Tim**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**Big Brother**

I had awoken to a massive pain in my head and quickly came to the conclusion that I had suffered a concussion. Upon further inspection I found nothing besides my left leg (broken) damaged. The second thing I had become aware of was there was a person in the room. They were almost silent but my training enabled me to detect their presence. He was very clearly Bruce judging by the nearly silent footsteps. When I had finally opened my eyes I saw that my assumption had been correct, but I had not expected to see Bruce quite so disheveled or for him to be holding a sleeping Damian.

"Bruce?" I asked, my voice hoarse from disuse. How long had I been out?

Bruce's head shot up surprise and relief evident in his eyes. I knew something had happened then because Bruce was not a person to let his emotions be read so easily. I had experience from living with the man since I was a kid, but his emotions at that moment would have been clear as day to anyone looking.

"You're awake. I… I should call in a nurse. Dick…" Bruce walked up to the bed to stare at me for a moment before he ran out the room and returned with a doctor a few minutes later.

"You gave us quite the scare young man. We weren't sure if you would wake up or not. It was touch and go there for a while. But now that you have awoken everything should be fine. I'd like to keep you here for a few more days under observation just in case, but I should be able to release you soon."

"What happened? How long was I out for?" I asked in confusion. Bruce was sitting in a chair next to my bed, on arm around the sleeping Damian, and the other touching me, his fingers carding through my hair in a blatant display of affection I was unaccustomed too coming from him. Usually I had to force hugs from him.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Bruce said quietly.

"Um…" I racked my brain for my last memory. Finally I came up with it. "Eating breakfast and…" Shit. I couldn't remember anything past eating my frozen waffles.

"Do you remember the date?" The doctor inquired.

"October 5th," I supplied promptly.

Doc nodded approvingly, seemingly pleased with my answer. "That's good. You haven't lost much. Your accident was on October 5th. It's good news that you can still remember some of that day."

"What happened?" I asked becoming impatient with the lack of forthcoming answers.

"You were in a motorcycle accident," Doc said. "You were driving way above the speed limit. Your lucky you got out relatively unscathed. You were in a coma though, and we weren't sure if you'd wake up. You've been unconscious for nine days."

I look to Bruce to see if the answer was a lie told to the doctor or the truth. Bruce gave me a small nod indicating that I had not been hurt as Nightwing.

"I'll leave you two alone." With that Doc left the room.

"I crashed my bike?" I asked Bruce in surprise. "I mean I know I ride fast but I'm _good_. Something must have happened to make me crash."

"I inspected the bike and the breaks didn't seem to be in working order."

"Do you think the bike was messed with?"

"No. It was your civilian bike and unless you have enemies as Dick that I don't know about then no. I think the bike was just in need of repairs."

"Shit."

"You need to be more careful," Bruce reprimanded gently. "I- we almost lost you."

With that I simple sentence I knew how much I had scared Bruce, it was written all over his face. I know it shouldn't have but it warmed my insides but it did. Bruce was closely guarded and rarely let his true feeling show. I knew deep down that he loved me, but it felt good to have this reassurance- to have the evidence put clearly on display. Bruce was my father, and I craved his love.

He didn't replace my dad of course, but I had been under Bruce's care since I was a little boy. I had known Bruce longer then I had known my real dad- and while I loved both of my parents dearly, I loved Bruce just as much.

"I'm sorry," I told Bruce. "I'll try to be more careful."

Bruce gave a small smile- his equivalent of a hug and telling me he loved me.

I cleared my throat and changed the subject, knowing that Bruce would be very uncomfortable if he had to delve into his emotions for much longer. He would if he had to, for me, but I didn't need him to. He had shown me he loved me, and I didn't need to milk it.

"How's Damian?"

"He's fine, just tired. It's been hell to drag him away from your bedside. I'd wake him up now so he can talk to you, but he was so exhausted… I'll bring him to see you first thing tomorrow. I want to let him sleep."

"Where's Tim? Can I see him?"

"He was outside when you woke up. I spoke to him briefly before I found Doctor Burroughs."

"Can he come in?" I asked hopefully.

"He left after I told him you were awake and going to be okay."

"He left? Well can you call him back?"

"I think he's going out on patrol."

"Oh." I was disappointed because I felt like shit and I wanted to see my brother.

"He has a slight cold. He probably didn't want to give it to you."

"Another cold? What's this, his fifth in the last two months?"

"He's much more subject to illness without his spleen."

I felt a wave of guilt at that statement. Maybe if I had done things differently after Bruce's 'death' things would have played out differently. I hated myself for not trusting Timmy's judgment- a mistake I would not make again- and felt that it was my fault he had lost his spleen (and no doubt countless other near death experiences).

"Get some rest chum. I'll be back in the morning." With that Bruce walked out of the room.

I fell asleep quickly after Bruce's departure. You would think sleeping for nine days would be enough rest, but I felt exhausted.

…

I woke up just a few hours after I fell asleep and was once again aware of another presence in the room. I slit my eyes open a fraction to see who my silent companion was and found Tim. He was sitting in a chair nearest to the door and farthest to my bed. He looked awful. His nose was red, and cheeks flushed, and obvious sign of illness, but other then that he was pale and drawn out. His eyes were dark from lack of sleep, and I wondered when was the last time he had sat down to eat a proper meal. Looking at him I knew that it was big brother time.

When I was a little boy I had begged my parents for a sibling. I wanted a companion around my age to play with, and I always was a bit envious of siblings who came to the circus. Both of my parents laughed off my request, and then said more kindly that they loved me dearly, and I was enough for them, and that they couldn't think about having anymore kids at the moment because of work. They never said a definitive "no" and I had hoped that one day they might decide to give me a sibling.

In the end they never got the chance, but I still got my wish. I had three little brothers (and yes not matter what I will always consider Jason my brother), and they were my responsibility. I put them above everyone else in my life, and loved them with all my heart. Sometimes I wondered what my parents would think of my brothers and me. I didn't think they would mind that I had a family, but I did think they would be surprised to find out how many siblings I had, and that I was not the baby. To them I had always been their little boy- but I wasn't anymore. I was the eldest. I joked, teased, encouraged, and cuddled when the little ones needed it (even if their stubborn assess insisted they did not).

Looking at Tim I knew that he needed some serious cuddling and that I needed to work fast. So I opened my eyes all the way and pushed myself to sit up a bit.

Tim looked slightly startled and shot up from out of the chair he had been occupying.

"Sorry. I… sorry… I didn't mean to bother you…" Tim was walking quickly to the door to leave.

"Stay. You aren't bothering me."

Tim froze and turned around slowly to face me.

"I just… I wanted to see if you were okay. I didn't mean to wake you."

"I wanted to see you anyway. Bruce said you left after I woke up."

"I… I figured you would want to spend time with Bruce and Damian."

Oh Timmy, when will he learn? Tim's parents did a real number on the kid- he's got one of the worst inferiority complexes I've seen. The worst part is he doesn't even realize it. He doesn't know how special he is, and I wish more then anything that I could show him.

"I want to spend time with you to," I said smiling easily at him.

He just nodded and I can tell he doesn't believe what I'm saying.

"Bruce told me you have another cold."

"It's nothing."

"It's just a cold, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you have a fever or anything?"

When Tim's eyes flash guiltily for a second I know I've hit the nail over the head. Tim's good if he can hide a fever from Bruce (who is always reluctant to let us Patrol if we have the slightest case of the sniffles), but he can't hide from me.

"You need to start taking care of yourself," I reprimanded him lightly.

"I am," he said defensively.

"Come here."

Tim walks a few steps closer to my bed but he's still to far away.

"I said come here. I don't have cooties."

"I don't want to get you sick."

"You aren't going to get me sick, now _come here_."

Tim rolled his eyes but complied and was standing beside my bed. I scooted over a little and then took Tim's hand and tugged it.

"What are you doing?" Tim asked even though he already knew the answer.

"I need my cuddles Tim," I knew better then to tell him he looked like he needed a hug. "Get in."

"I'm technically not even allowed to be here."

"Bruce donates enough money that you should be able to come and go as you please. Now get in. I'm cold, and you look like you could use a nap."

Tim made some feeble attempts to refuse but in the end he slipped off his shoes and lay down next to me. I instantly put my arms around him and I could feel him relax in my arms and settle into them sighing in contentment. I put my hand up to his forehead and I was relived that it was only slightly warm.

"I really should go and do some work," he mumbled into my shirt, and I just laughed. He didn't make any move to leave, and in a few minutes time he had fallen asleep.

"Sleep tight Timmy," I whispered. I adjusted myself slightly in a more comfortable position for Tim, and I didn't mind that I could feel my back and arms start aching, because I'll do anything to make sure my brother is taken care of. If that means being sore in the morning then so be it, I'd do anything for my brothers, because that is what a big brother is for.

**I don't like this story much. I don't really like writing fluff (especially for Batman fics) and it took me way to long to get this story out. I may end up making a revised version of this story that is much more angsty, but I don't have any plans for that at the moment. Anyway please R&R **


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